Without You
by redemancy
Summary: Two years after Will finds out Sydney is alive, he fulfills his urge to go see her. Use S3 Remnants as background Season 4 AU. S W FINISHED!
1. I am Will

**Author:** taintedvison

**Title:** Without You Working Title

**Disclaimer:** I don't Alias, I just play with them

**Rating: **PG-13

**Ship:** S/W with Jonah references

**Timeline:** AU Season 4

**Summary**:Two years after finding out Sydney was really alive,Will decides tosee her again.

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Jonah pulled up into the construction yard where he worked and slammed the door of his old Bronco. He walked, eyes fixed on his dust and dirt covered boots amid the rubble and scrap metal of the building that he was overseeing careful not to trip among the shards. He briefly lifted his head to quickly glance at the layout plans for the day that were in his hand and stepped into the frame of the building.

"Hey, Jonah! You coming with the rest of the guys to Chompson's later?" one of his co-workers yelled out from behind the saw table. He looked up and squinted into the sun at his hard-hat friend.

"Let's just get through the day first Brad," he chuckled. Before reaching for the hammer in his tool belt, he rubbed his hands together feeling the calluses on his skin. In another life they weren't so; he missed those days. And then he was Will again, thinking of Sydney and her smile and how her presence and the mere thought of her made him weak. He thought about her a lot and sometimes he tried not to think about her at all, fearing that his thoughts could be tapped. He was supposed to live in Jonah's town, go to Jonah's bar and live Jonah's life. But he thought Will's thoughts. When he was Will, he hated his job and hated this life. But he chose it. He chose Wisconsin, chose to be far away from where he thought his love died.

Will took a nail out from a sack on the ground and placed it on the wooden beam of the building and drove it down into the body. It was his nail. But he knew that part of the essence of Hell was that one chose it. And he did.

Later that day, Will had skipped out on dinner with the guys and instead opted to go home. He was Jonah on the outside, but Will on the inside the nails didn't help. On the way, Will stopped by the liquor store Jonah usually went to and bought a bottle of red wine (make that two). Sydney liked red wine. When he went up the stairs to his apartment he ran into the painter girl on her way out. She was a big deal to Jonah, but to Will she was just another woman. She spied the bottles and stopped.

"Not what you usually drink," she commented. He looked down at the wine and stuttered.

"Um, uh, yeah. My friend is getting married on the weekend." It was scary how good he had gotten at lying. His whole life was a lie.

"Oh, that's great. Hope you have fun." She smiled and turned back to the stairs. "See you later Jonah." He almost didn't reply, he wasn't Jonah.

"See ya," he finally said. He walked over and opened the door to his apartment and silence greeted him. There was no light, no laughter, no smile, just Will and the darkness.

"As it should be," he said out loud. Will turned on the lights and headed for the small kitchen. He put one of the bottles into the refrigerator for later and opened the other. He went to his cupboard to find a glass, but soon found that he didn't have glasses suited for wine. Actually, Jonah didn't; all he knew was beer and hard liquor. Will knew the grace and sensuality of a glass of wine. Slightly dejected at his find, or lack there of, Will substituted the wine glass for a liquor glass. Pouring out the ruby red liquid,

Will kicked off his shoes and flopped down on his couch letting go a long held sigh. He sat for a while in the weak lighting from the kitchen and immersed himself in wine. Every sip he took he saw more and more of Sydney and moved farther and further away from Jonah. With every sip he took he hated living in Wisconsin and hated not being able to see Sydney everyday. Even if he wanted, he had nothing of her but the memory. He had left all his things, and hers, with his old life. Will soon found himself sitting on the floor staring through the half empty wine bottle, the green tint distorting and reflecting the weak light causing the bottle to appear like it was glowing from within. Thinking about her was torturing him. He needed to see her with his own eyes. He needed to know if she was okay. He needed to know so that he could move on. Not even bothering to pour the rest of the wine, Will picked up the bottle and finished off the rest of the contents. He would see her.

_TBC..._

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**yay, part I finished! R&R**


	2. Call me lucky

**part II**

The October morning sun reached through Will's window and touched his face, slowly rousing him from his inebriated sleep. His eyes fluttered open and were immediately singed by the bright light. Will groaned and shut his eyes again wanting desperately to return to his dream. His head throbbed which left a dull ache in his forehead and temples and the wine left a bittersweet aftertaste on his tongue. He got up slowly and went to the bathroom. Will turned on the faucet and splashed his face with the icy liquid to jar him awake. He ran his hands over the day-old stubble on his face and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was still Will Tippin, only his outer appearance changed. His once unruly sandy blonde hair was shorn short in an attempt to remove any trace of his former life. His eyes were red and blood shot from the wine and his complexion was significantly tanned from working outside all day, another attempt to become his own antithesis. Will dried off his face and checked his watch. It was Wednesday. Miss work or not, he was going to see Sydney. He couldn't live without her. He would use the same lie he told the painter.

Flight arrangements were easy and lying to his co-workers was even easier. Getting out of the state wasn't a problem; months after being relocated Will found someone to make him a fake passport and identity. It cost no small amount, however, in the short time he worked for the CIA, he knew the resourcefulness of becoming another person. It was what he was going to do when he got to L.A. that was the problem. How was he going to find Sydney? Will didn't know where she lived, where she worked or whom she was working with now since he last saw her. But it didn't matter. He threw preparation to the wind before reason convinced him not to go. He was going to see Sydney. Even if it broke his heart.

When night finally fell the next day, he tried to sleep so that he would be rested for his 9:00 am flight, but the later it got, the more restless he became. Will tossed and turned in his bed as each second ticked by bringing images of Sydney closer and closer until Will swore he could touch her. It was four in the morning before sleep finally came to him. Then at 7:30 that morning Will was up and on his way to the airport. When he finally got on the plane, he was thankful to rest his sleep-deprived body shortly after take off. Will napped a little until the stewardesses started to hand out the little in-flight snacks. He conversed a little with the middle-aged woman sitting next to him about the weather and their reasons for flying to Los Angeles and of course he lied. He was good at it. He chuckled at a remark the woman made and turned his head to the seats directly across the aisle from him. Sitting with their mother were a brother and sister, about ten and eight years old respectively, arguing.

"Yeah, huh, there are to spies!" the boy teased sticking his tongue out at his sister. The little girl proceeded to stick her thumbs in her ears and wiggle her fingers around.

"Nuh, uh! What do they look like?" she retaliated. Her brother rolled his eyes.

"They look like people, stupid!"

"Mark!" their mother chastised. "Don't call your sister stupid!"

"Sorry mom."

"Mommy are there spies that do bad things like watch people?" the little girl asked.

"Yes, honey, all spies are bad."

"See I told you!" the little boy interjected.

"What do they look like?" the girl persisted.

"I don't know dear. Just keep quiet and eat your cookies." Will turned his head away. Spies looked like Sydney and Sydney wasn't "bad" as the mother had put it, therefore not all spies were bad. That was Will's logic in Will's world and he supposed, probably in everyone's mind that knew her. Sydney could never be "bad". Will tried to stay awake until landing, but his lack of sleep began to catch up with him and he nodded off. Whatever the plans were that he made once he landed immediately escaped Will's mind once he stepped out of LAX airport. Being back in his old home overwhelmed him, especially with the possibility that Sydney lived with in the parameters of the city of Los Angeles. Will hailed a cab and a pleasant old man stopped and allowed him to get in. He opened the cab door and was greeted by a strong chemical smell reminiscent of Windex, and slid onto the worn plastic seating.

Where to, young lad?" the old man said. Will stuttered for a moment.

"Uh, the beach. Can you take me to the beach?" The old man gave Will a strange look from the rear view and stepped on the gas.

"Sure son." Will watched as the Los Angeles scenery passed by. All the places were familiar yet foreign at the same time. He knew them and never saw them at once, he was both a townie and a foreigner, a resident and an outsider. It was the strangest feeling he had ever felt. When the cab finally turned to the ocean, Will was captivated by the soft waves of the water and the way it glimmered in the morning sun. It had been such a long time since he saw the ocean. He didn't realize how much he missed it. Will continued to stare out onto the horizon not realizing that the cab was slowly coming to a stop.

"Here we are son," the old man said breaking him out of his reverie. Will smiled and continued to gaze out onto the ocean. "Not from around here are you?"

Will turned his head to the old man.

"No," he replied. "Well I was, but now I'm visiting." He turned his head back to the orange and pink sky. The old man seemed in no hurry to kick him out of the cab and Will was grateful for it. He sat there for several more minutes scanning the beach when his eyes happened on a woman running along the water's edge. She was lithe, elegant, and graceful when she ran and wore a strangely familiar running suit. Her brown hair was tied back and swung loosely in the air behind her. But he knew exactly who it was and an electric feeling rushed through him giving him new life and the old cab driver sensed it.

"She someone you know?" he asked following Will's eyes to Sydney.

"Yeah, can you follow her?" He couldn't possibly be that lucky. The old man silently agreed and put the car back into drive.

"Do you want me to drive up so you can get out?" he asked as they approached her.

"No, no, no." Will disagreed. "I don't want her to know I'm in town just yet." So the old man drove on satisfying Will's need to watch. Soon Sydney turned right onto a street a little way from the beach and slowed to check her pulse and the time.

"Stop the car here," Will ordered once the old man got to the corner. He watched as Sydney caught her breath. She was still the same. After two years since he'd seen her, she looked ageless. Not even time could stop Sydney Bristow. More overwhelming then that was that his feeling for her hadn't changed. Time hadn't fill the enormous hole he had reserved for her in his heart. Instead, it had gotten bigger. He watched as she pulled a key from her pocket and entered the house that stood to the left of her. Once the door closed, Will turned back to the kindly driver.

"Uh, can you please take me to the bed and breakfast that's couple blocks from here? I forgot the name, but do you know it?" Will asked.

"Yeah, sure, I know what you mean. The place with the roses out on the front and the white porch?"

"Yes, that one."

"No problem, lad." Once they arrived at the bed and breakfast, Will got out of the cab, paid the cab driver and tipped him generously. The old man was a nice guy. With his one duffel bag, Will jumped up the porch steps and opened the door to the bed and breakfast. He hoped that there were still available rooms. As soon as he entered a young fragile-looking woman with blonde hair greeted him.

"Good morning sir, are you looking to stay with us?"

"Uh, yeah. Have you got any rooms left that face the ocean?" The young girl walked to a mahogany desk seated in the center of the foyer and opened a ledger of all the people staying in the B&E.

"Yes, we do. You're lucky; it's the last room available. What is your name and how long do you plan to stay with us?"

"Uh, Jeremy Williams," Will lied remembering the name on his forged ID. "I'll be staying until Sunday." He watched as the young woman wrote his name in the ledger and handed him a key.

"Thank you for staying with us, Mr. Williams. You are in room seven, It's upstairs, the last room on the right, next to room four." Will took the key and smiled.

"Thanks." He bounded up the stairs and walked down the hall glancing at the little brass embellished numbers on the doors until he reach the end of the hall. Room seven stood to the right of four. He put the key in the lock and slowly opened the door. The room was descent and clean adorned with beach artwork and minimalist furniture. The room was painted a soft blue that matched the covers of the bed and complemented the white trims of the windows and doors. Will walked to the window and pushed back the soft linen curtains to gaze out at the beach. It was a good view. He tossed his duffel bag on the bed and ripped the zipper open to dig out the hard cover journal and a pen. He never wrote when he was Jonah, but when he was Will the urge overwhelmed him.

Will sat at the desk across from the bed and began to pour out his mind onto the paper. He wrote about two nights ago and last night, about his trip and what he thought he was going to do while he was here. But most of all, he wrote about Sydney. _"Seeing her again for the first time in almost two years made me realize,"_ he wrote. _"That what I was living was never really a life without her. I'm trapped in a life that isn't a life." _He dated the passage and closed the journal. He never signed his name and never mentioned names either. He never would.

_TBC..._

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**Stay tuned for part III**

**What do you guys think?**


	3. Ice cream nighmares

**_Part III_**

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Suddenly a crisp knock came to the door and Will cautiously got up. Should he answer it? Did they find him? How did they know he was here? Millions of questions and paranoia raced through his head. He wasn't quick to forget what happened the last time he opened a door so freely. That little British bastard (if he really was British) Sark fucking shot him. He wasn't going to let that happen again. He peeked through the little seeing hole in the door. It was the young lady from down stairs. But he asked any way. 

"Who is it?" he asked.

"It's Emily from downstairs. I just wanted to tell you that the breakfast hour will be over at 11:00, just in case you didn't get a chance to eat you still have time," she said through the wood.

"Thanks Emily. I'll be down a little later."

"Okay, have a nice day, Mr. Williams." She turned and walked away. Will let go of his tense shoulders. It was just a false alarm. He walked over to the bed and dropped himself next to the duffel bag. He couldn't be this edgy all the time. He'd go crazy. Will stared at the white ceiling; there wasn't a crack to amuse his imagination. His breathing began to slow and his eyelids began to feel heavy.

"Why am I always so tired?" he asked himself before he closed his eyes.

_He and Sydney were drinking in the living room of her old apartment. Their second bottle of tequila went down like water and they had abandoned the limes all together. After finishing off the rest of the tequila, Sydney unstably got up and headed for the kitchen and to the freezer. He followed. The next thing he knew they _were_ making drunken ice cream sundaes with too much chocolate syrup and not enough ice cream._

_"Ice cream becomes...like oxygen, like a requirement," Sydney giggled as she passed the chocolate syrup to Will. Will drowned his ice cream in the rich liquid._

_"Shh, yougotta to try this," he slurred taking a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "It's a super combination of chocolate and chips, and it's genius." He took another spoonful and gently guided it into Sydney's waiting mouth. He watched as she closed her eyes to savor it. _

"_Mmm, mmm, hmmm," she agreed. In return she fed him a spoonful of her ice cream but the sweet liquid dripped off the spoon before it reached Will's mouth and fell onto his shirt. _

"_It's good. No, this is good. My shirt didn't have enough ice cream on it," he replied teasingly. They giggled drunkenly as Sydney tried to wipe off the stain, but it didn't really matter. Will pulled her close and they stared at each other for a moment, blue meeting brown in a haze of liquor and chocolate-chocolate chip ice cream. He leaned in to kiss her, but the floor gave way and he fell. He fell away from her and kept falling into a black abyss that had no end. She called after him but he couldn't answer. He just kept falling._

**_TBC..._**

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**_Sorry, this is a little short...stay tuned! Thank you to everyone who has submitted a review so far! It really helps! I look forward to more!_** (by the way, the Syd/Will ice cream dialogue was taken from 1.03 "Parity") 

**_taintedvision_**


	4. Reunited

Will jerked awake and found himself heaving in the darkness of his room. He sat up in the bed and vigorously rubbed his eyes. The dream shook him. He never remembered his dreams. But when he did, they were always a hybrid between a dream and a memory. He hated them because they always brought back memories of moments he cherished most and as he slept he twisted them into something grotesque and horrifying. Will looked to the window for comfort, but it was too dark. How long had he been asleep? He glanced at the illuminated red numbers on the digital clock next to the bed. 9:32 pm. He was amazed. Had he really slept for ten hours? Will ran his hands over he shorn hair and walked slowly to the bathroom. He fumbled around for the light switch and flipped it on causing his senses to be momentarily paralyzed by the intensity of white light. After thirty minutes, Will grabbed his coat and left the room.

He headed down the stairs and out the door without even glancing at the other boarders in the bed and breakfast. Will was greeted by a pleasant coolness that stung his face and he took off running. He didn't think of any destination because he knew where he would end up. He passed building after building; all looking alike, all having no value to him except one. The streetlights lit his way casting his shadow behind him and then in front of him. When he reached her street Will slowed down and tried to control his heaving chest.

He slowed to a walk and approached Sydney's house. He saw the lights were on inside and the closer he got the warmer and more hopeful he got. When he reached the door Will stood there for a moment. He remembered what it was like standing outside of Sydney's door, but this was a new door and a new life for both of them. He had his doubts about knocking but he didn't come all this way for nothing. He had already entered her domain. He lifted his hand and knocked on the heavy oak door. No one answered after a while and Will's heart sank.

"Maybe she's really not here," he thought to himself. He was about to turn away when he heard the lock click from within. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the knob turn. The door slowly opened and Will didn't see Sydney. Instead it was vaguely young Spanish woman with dark long hair. For a moment Will thought that she was the woman he saw running on the beach. He could see how he could mistake this woman for Sydney they were similar in body type.

"Can I help you?" she asked. He could hear the accent in her voice. His heart fell, he'd made a mistake. He knew he couldn't have been that lucky when he first came.

"Uh, sorry, I must have the wrong house. I'm looking for someone named Sydney," he apologized. The young Spanish woman smiled.

"Yes, she's here." His heart stopped. "Come in I'll go and get her." Will slowly stepped over the threshold and the young Spanish lady closed the door.

"Sydney!" she called. "You have a visitor."

"I'll be right there!" he heard Sydney call. Now his heart leapt from his stomach to his throat. It hurt when he tried to swallow it back down. Will began to fidget when he realized that he was moments away from seeing Sydney again. And then he got unbearably hot. He cleared his throat when he heard Sydney and the other young lady laugh. She was smiling when she turned the corner. She stopped abruptly when she saw him and the smile quickly faded from her face.

_**tbc...**_

_**Sorry, I know these updates are short, but I've got an ending that dying to come out trapped in my head, and I can't get it to come out. (I guess my word choice is pretty bad... :) Not to worry though, I'm working on the beast!**_


	5. Like it used to be

**Part V

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**

"Hi," he said feebly. Will tried to stay as calm as possible but his heart felt like it was going to explode and overall he felt like he was going to be sick. After not seeing Sydney at all for two years, seeing her again was overwhelming.

"Will," she whispered. She stepped toward him and he stayed still. Frankly, if he moved he knew he would do something stupid. He would lose control. It was safer to let her take control.

"I know." He smiled sheepishly when she came closer and hugged him tightly. His eyes immediately slammed shut. Oh, how good it felt to hold her again. He missed her beyond words. Will finally opened his eyes and smiled. He was happy again for the first time since he left Los Angeles.

Sydney finally let go and ushered him deeper into the house. She knew the imminent danger he could be in and he did to, but he honestly didn't care. He fulfilled the purpose of his visit. If he died now, he'd be happy.

"Will! What are you doing here? Are you okay?" she asked concerned. He just smiled.

"I'm fine Syd. I just had to see you. I wanted to know if you were okay," he replied. She sighed heavily and sat next to him on the couch. He missed her warmth.

"There are so many things wrong with this right now," she muttered. "You shouldn't even be here. I don't know how you got out of Wisconsin without tipping the FBI."

"What does it matter?" he asked. "You don't know how happy I am to see you right now." She smiled at him.

"I'm glad to see you too, Will. But this is dangerous. You're jeopardizing your life." He wouldn't hear any of it. She consumed all his senses.

"Do you have a place to stay?" she asked. She took his hands in hers and squeezed them gently allowing her warmth to travel to his icy fingertips.

"No." he lied. She looked at him astonished. Will was about to answer the look in her eyes, but the Spanish lady who opened the door came into the living room.

"Sorry, to interrupt," she apologized. "I just came to get my cell phone." Sydney smiled at the young lady.

"Nadia!" she greeted warmly. "This is my best friend, Will." She stood up and he stood along with her reaching his hand out to Nadia. Nadia smiled a smile strangely similar to Sydney's.

"And Will, this is my sister, Nadia." What? Will blinked several times.

"Your sister? Wow. It's nice to meet you Nadia," he replied politely. "Seems like I missed a lot in the last two years."

"Sydney has told me a lot about you." Nadia said. Sydney smiled at her.

"I hope it wasn't anything bad."

"No, no, nothing bad at all." He beamed. "I should be going so you two can catch up. It was nice meeting you Will."

"Nice to meet you too, Nadia." She walked away and he turned to Sydney in disbelief.

"Your sister?" he asked incredulously. "That's insane!" Sydney smiled sheepishly.

"I know."

"You have to tell me this story," he pleaded as they walked to the kitchen. Sydney opened the freezer and pulled out a carton of ice cream. She smiled.

"Feel like ice cream?" Will inwardly panicked. This was vaguely familiar. The only thing running through his mind was _"Is this a dream? Am I going to fall?"_

"Will? Are you okay?" Sydney asked concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine.," he answered turning to the carton of ice cream. "Oh chocolate-chocolate chip, I haven't had that in forever." Sydney got out two spoons and opened the carton between them and they ate while Will reassumed his journalistic instincts. He felt strangely comforted by the small pretense of normalcy they created.

"Wow," he commented. "And I thought that you being kidnapped was crazy. I can't believe that Sloane is Nadia's father. I bet that makes you closer to him than you had wanted to be." She placed a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and smiled.

"Yeah, but you get used to it. It's harder now for me to want to kill him only because he is Nadia's father. I just regret what my life did to you." He looked up and her immediately and stared into her brown eyes. If there was ever more sorrow and regret, Will would have seen it in her eyes. He sighed.

"Oh, don't say that," he entreated.

"No, Will. I ruined your life. I took it from you." She set her spoon down and closed the lid of the ice cream and put it back in the freezer. Will remained silent. The whole thought about Sydney owing him a life never came to his mind. He would never ask Sydney for anything. Just knowing that she was alive was enough for him, even if she didn't reciprocate the intensity of the feelings he felt for her.

"Come on, I'll show you where you can stay." She took him by the hand and led him into a spacious guest room. She sat on the bed while he observed the place.

"Look in the closet," she told him. Will turned around with his hands in his jacket pockets and looked at her curiously.

"The closet? Why?" He would always be a journalist.

"Just look." Giving in, he slowly pulled back the door to the closet half expecting to find some top-secret super high tech state of the art CIA gadgetry hidden behind the panel in the wall. Instead all he saw were clothes. Well, what was a closet for anyway?

"Do those look familiar?" she asked. Will turned around to give her a half confused, half curious look and finally reached out to touch the fabric. It was soft and strangely familiar in his hands, like he had held it somewhere before. Taking the coat off the rack he examined it in the light and it dawned on him. It was his old suede jacket.

"How in the world did you get this?" he asked incredulously thumbing the soft material. "I thought this was lost in the fire."

"I was surprised when I came across it too. But some how several articles of your clothing were recovered. I wish I could say that about mine. I had a lot of cute stuff." He smiled at her.

"What else is in here?" He turned back to the closet.

"Well, a couple t-shirts and a pair of track pants. Those are there in the top dresser drawer. I didn't want to throw them away. They were all I had left of you." Will walked over to the dresser and pulled the items out of the drawer and examined them.

"How weird is that?" he asked rhetorically. "I hope these all still fit." He placed the clothes back in the drawer and collapsed onto the bed next to Sydney. Her hair bounced and she laid down next to him, nestling her head in the crook of his shoulder and neck and brought his arm to her chest and hugged it close. Will died of happiness a thousand times in that one moment.

" _I could spend eternity like this,"_ he thought. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He would never forget this moment. With his other hand he stroked the hair from her face and stared out the window for a while. The moonlight and the darkness took on a whole other meaning when he was with Sydney. It seemed more hopeful for the day to come. He was no longer desperate.

"So, have you asked out that painter yet?" Will was broken out of his reverie with the question. Frankly, after returning from the CIA mission with Sydney two years ago, he hadn't even tried to pursue the girl. Let alone ask her name. Jonah would hate him for that.

"No. I figured she's not my type," he answered. "I'm supposed to be recovering from a traumatic dating experience, remember?" Sydney giggled.

"Oh yeah. But does it take two years?" For Jonah, no. But for Will, eternity wouldn't be long enough for him to refute his love for her.

"Jonah is trying to take it slow. He's got to make sure first that she doesn't own a bayonet or anything relatively sharp. He's still trying to deal with kitchen knives and scissors." "_While Will was aching to get out."_ He thought. Sydney started up again with idle conversation and they talked into the early morning. It was comforting to hear her voice again and to feel like old Will Tippin and old Sydney Bristow. The ones they were (or thought they were) before Sydney confessed her real job. Daybreak began to peer through the windows when they finally fell asleep.

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_TBC……_

_Sorry this took so long everyone, but newspaper has been really breathing down my back lately. I'll try to write more….and I'm still searching for the ending! By the way, I appreciate all the reviews!_

_Taintedvision_


	6. Chocolate chip pancakes

**Part VI

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**

Will awoke a few hours later to the cold that was left when Sydney wasn't there. He sat up slowly and squinted at the sunlight that came through the window feeling that his hands were curiously wet. He brought his left hand up and saw that it was covered in blood. It was thick and gritty against his skin, but worst of all, it was cold. Terrified, Will jumped off the bed and wiped his hands vigorously against his sides as if the blood was acid eating slowly through his skin. His heart raced and sweat began to form on his brow as he looked at the bloody area where Sydney had been. Will forced himself to swallow the horrible lump in his throat and forced himself to walk. His eyes traveled to the heavy blood stains on the carpet and he followed them into the bathroom. His eyes soon found the shower curtain where a single sanguine handprint was left. Will's hands shook and he clenched his fists until his knuckles were white. His heart refused to slow down and he desperately tried to calm his breathing. He forced back his tears, expecting the worst and pulled back the curtain.

"Will!" he heard a voice yell in the distance. "Will! Wake up!" A hand shook him gently calling him out of his sleep. Will opened his eyes to see Sydney's face. He couldn't portray his relief to know that what he just saw was a dream. He let out a long relieved sigh.

"Will, are you okay? You were mumbling in your sleep." Sydney asked concerned. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She always did that.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It was just a bad dream." Sydney wasn't convinced.

"Are you sure? You kind of worried me." He sat up realizing it was morning.

"No, no I'm fine. Really," he excused. Sydney got up from the bed and gave him a cautious smile.

"So what's for breakfast?" he asked changing the subject. He didn't want to dwell on the image.

"I hadn't made any yet. I was thinking that we could do that together, like we used to," she replied. Will got up from the bed and briskly rubbed his head. Yes, he remembered. Saturday mornings were always filled with coffee, Will's articles and the comics and chocolate chip pancakes.

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds great." They had walked into the kitchen before Will realized that he was no longer wearing what he came in the night before. Instead he was wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and one of his old t-shirts. He stopped dead in his tracks.

"Whoa. Now I know I wasn't wearing these when I came," he stated. Sydney laughed at him and smiled.

"No you weren't," she proceeded to the kitchen. "You looked so uncomfortable. I tried not to laugh to loud." Will followed her to the stove.

"Shut up," he quipped with a smile. Soon they were cooking like the used to with laughter, pancake batter and a whole lot of chocolate chips. They had burnt the first few and laughed when Sydney tried to taste the charred mess only to spit it out in the garbage. It wasn't long before Nadia came out of her room and into the kitchen.

"Do I smell pancakes?" she asked out loud. Sydney turned to her and placed a plate of pancakes in front of her.

"Compliments of Chef Will." Will poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the countertop and watched Sydney and Nadia eat. He smiled inwardly. Nadia wasn't exactly Francie, but he would take anyone as long as this Sydney was included.

"Wow, these are really great Will." Nadia complimented.

"Why, thank you. But I say it's all in the inspiration." He glanced over at Sydney. Soon the kitchen was filled with laughter and the feeling that Will had missed out on for five years. A little after 10:30, the three heard the door click and crease open. The laughter died and Will's senses heightened. The smiles on the girls' faces faded away as the steady click of a heeled shoe became louder and closer. The person entered the kitchen and Will was about ready to throw his hot cup of coffee if the need arose. The man stopped with his hands down at his sides. Will had not expected him.

_TBC...

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_Thank you everyone for being so patient. Right now I'm not feeling as confident about these next parts because I've been searching for the best way to write my ending,...it may be coming soon...watch out! Thanks for all your reviews. They're great. Stayed tuned! There's more to come!_

_taintedvision_


	7. Goodbye

**Part VII

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"Well, isn't this a pajama party?" the man asked. Will plastered as genuine a smile on his face as he could. Not that he was insecure or anything, but Vaughn always got what Will wanted. Maybe that was part of the reason he liked being Jonah. There was no Vaughn, however, there was no Sydney either.

"Will what are you doing here?" Vaughn asked. "You're putting yourself at high risk." Even though Will may have been the slightest bit jealous of Vaughn, and perhaps threatened when they were both with Sydney, he always respected his concern for others, or perhaps only for the people close to Sydney. He didn't know, and he didn't want to judge.

"It's a long story," he said reaching out his hand to the CIA man. Vaughn took it warmly and heartily shook it. He had a strong firm grip. A man's handshake.

"Yes," Sydney interjected taking Vaughn by the arm. "But let's not delve into the details. You have to try these." She sat him down in front of a plate of pancakes and handed Vaughn a fork. "Will made them." Will set down his coffee cup and smiled politely. He rubbed his hands together feeling the calluses and the ruggedness of Jonah once again.

"So Will, how's life in Wisconsin?" Vaughn asked. He put a fork full of pancake in his mouth and chewed briskly. Will noticed how Sydney watched Vaughn's strong jaw moved in fluid motion. She adored him and he felt wrong for disliking him for it.

"Wisconsin is..." Will trailed off. "...different from Los Angeles. I never realized how much I missed the ocean until I saw it again for the first time in two years." They chuckled nonchalantly. Small talk with Sydney's boyfriend was not what he was expecting.

"Well, I'm going to get ready," Nadia announced getting up from her seat. She placed her dish in the sink and smiled at Will.

"Breakfast was great Will," she complimented. "Thanks."

He smiled back. "No problem." Sydney looked at him fondly and wrinkled her nose. Her eyes twinkled with a vibrancy he missed in the cold of the Wisconsin snow. He loved the way she looked at him.

"I think that I should get dressed too," she said. She placed her plate and coffee cup in the sink and gave Will an affectionate peck on the cheek before she moved to Vaughn.

"I'll be ready in 15 minutes," she said looking down at him.

"Mmm, hmm," Vaughn replied with a mouthful of pancakes. She kissed him tenderly on the forehead and headed off to her room leaving the two men. Will felt a little part of him close off when he saw Sydney kiss Vaughn. But what did he expect? He has been gone for five years and Sydney never knew him as anything other than a friend. He was fortune's fool.

"So Will," Vaughn started up. "How exactly did you get out of Wisconsin without sending the entire FBI after you? By the way, these pancakes are awesome. Better than Syd's, but don't tell her that." He smiled warmly at the man.

"I know a guy who makes fake passports. I figured he was a guy worth knowing," Will replied. He didn't want to get any farther than that.

"Oh, well, it looks like you're still CIA at heart after all this time." Vaughn set down his fork got up and poured himself a cup of coffee. He stood in the warm yellow light that shone through the window and sipped the hot liquid. His brown hair caught the golden light which illuminated his head in an unearthly glow. He was clean shaven and Will didn't doubt that if he got close enough he would smell a hint of cologne. Vaughn was always sharply dressed. At least when ever the two of them had been together. He wore a dark gray suit, a French blue shirt and matching tie with the most impeccably polished shoes Will had ever seen. He felt like a fool standing with Vaughn in the kitchen in his pajamas and day old stubble. They stood there for a moment and silently drank their coffee until Nadia emerged from her room. Will took it as his cue to leave.

"I should wash up," he said. "I'll see you in a few." Vaughn smiled warmly.

"Yeah." Will bee lined for the guest room with coffee in hand, thankful for getting out of there. He shut the door behind him and leaned back against it. He set the cup down on the night stand and tipped his head backward toward the door. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and willed himself to be back in Wisconsin. Seeing Sydney with another man was more than he could handle. After two years of being celibate for her, Vaughn was the last person he wanted to see. Will slowly regained his composure and went to the bathroom to wash up. Everything inside was just as he remembered what Sydney liked. There was a wash cloth for each matching towel, the toothbrush holder on the right, toothpaste on the left, and of course, vanilla scented candles. The scent tingled his nose and pleasantly sweetened his brain like candied yam. Worriedly, he checked the shower curtains. No, they were different than the ones in his dream. He was relieved. When he stepped out of the room, he was greeted by smiling faces and a hug from Sydney.

"Will, Vaughn and I have to go in. Are you sure that you're going to be okay? Nadia has already left." Of course it was Sunday morning. She had to work. Sydney could never just quit. She was married to her job. He'll never know how she can fly to Sri Lanka and back and not give off the slightest bit of jet lag. She was truly an amazing woman. He forced a fake smile. "By the way, if you need anything, here's a list of phone numbers, mine, Vaughn's and Nadia's if anything should go wrong." She handed him a slip of paper. He looked at it briefly remembering her slender manuscript and pocketed it.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. I think I'll just go to the beach since you live so close to it. You're so lucky." She smiled again and Vaughn took her by the arm and they left. Will let out a long sigh and sat down in the kitchen. In place of the pancakes and laughter, Will was left with silence and the tingle of the burning sun on his skin. Casting his eyes around the kitchen, Will's curiosity urged him to observe her house.

It was clean, as always, everything in its place and nothing seemingly out of the ordinary. The couches and other larger pieces of furniture looked as if he and Sydney had picked them, and there was no doubt in his mind that they would have if things were different. It was a comfortable space. Will walked through the house looking at various things and touching things as if to make sure they were real and not some form of super spy gadgetry.

He reached the doorway of Sydney's bedroom and stopped. He gazed around. Nothing had changed. She was always clean and orderly. Will debated whether or not he should enter. He was a foreign man now in newly foreign territory. It would seems like an invasion of privacy, especially if one threw Vaughn into the picture. But that was an aspect that Will did not want to dwell on. When would he ever get another chance to be in Sydney's room? Possibly never. He set one foot on the plush carpet and entered a whole new world. The bed, which took up most of the room was simple and contemporary with two nightstands on either side. Will could tell which side Sydney slept on by what was on the nightstands. She always slept on the left and the book on the left stand proved it. Across from the bed was a single brown leather chair and a row of drawers and a closet built into the wall.

"That's clever," he thought out loud. On Sydney's side on the left wall, there were several windows with the curtains pulled back allowing the sun light to illuminate the soft crème-colored sheets of the bed. Across the room was another door and Will entered cautiously. It was the bathroom. Inside were his and her sinks, a bathtub and a separate shower. Around the tub and through out the bathroom were of course, vanilla candles. Will closed his eyes and inhaled the lingering aroma. He remembered too well what it was like to enter the house and be greeted by the sweet warm scent and the slight humidity of the bath. He missed it in cold, cold Wisconsin.

Will looked at his reflection in the mirror seeing tired listless eyes deeply set into his tanned face. Crow's feet were beginning to appear at the corners of his eyes, but they were not from the laughter. He had little of it in Wisconsin. He vigorously rubbed his face with his hands, his fingers lingering on a minute scar below his eye where an errant steel bit hit him on a build eight months ago. He forced himself to look deeper. This was Jonah's face, portraying Jonah's age, and Jonah's scars. But somehow, Will couldn't bring himself to live the lie. Forcing himself away from his own image, Will walked out of Sydney's bathroom and back into the sun light of the bedroom. He was about to leave, when his eye caught Sydney's closet.

Not thinking, Will cautiously opened the smooth wooden door and likened the experience to opening a time capsule. All her clothes hung neatly on wooden hangers arranged by color, type, casual, formal, and what ever other category a woman could think of. Will reached out and touched the soft fabric. Sydney had suits in gray, brown, black, plaid, wool, cotton, cashmere, silk and countless others all owning a matching pair of heels. She had jeans, Capri's, khaki, something kind of like Capri's, he didn't know the term, tank tops, camisoles and various other clothes. He never realized how many clothes Sydney actually had and marveled at how he never considered them in his definition of beauty. It didn't matter how low-cut her shirt was because he never saw it. He loved her for who she was. She was his kind of gal, simple and elegant. On the top shelf he spied an old stack of newspapers that piqued his interest. After all those years, journalism would always be his passion.

He reached for them to bring them down, but in moving his arm, he knocked over an old hat box. The contents of which spilled out on the beige carpet. Will sighed in frustration, and Jonah cursed and knelt on the floor to pick up the scattered odds and ends. He found a pair of stunning blue earrings, clips of articles, some of which were his, or about him and the SD-6 chaos that ruined his life, some were about her mother and there were some odd slips of paper with what he assumed was code despite the ordinary messages like "buy milk and eggs."

After retrieving most of the contents of the box, Will picked up the last item from off the floor. It was a small, black velvet cube and as he slowly opened it, his heart began to ache. Inside, the light from the sun refracted off the intricate cuts of the diamond ring and cast vibrant kaleidoscope light on the darkly painted walls. He recognized the ring from years and years ago when he was first denied of his love. It was the engagement ring that Danny gave Sydney. It was the ring that gave her hope, that gave her happiness, that gave her grief and heart ache. The ring that took Sydney one year to finally take off. He remembered what he did to her. How he pried into her life, into Danny's death so selfishly that he might be the one to rescue Sydney from her dark oblivion.

But he unknowingly made it worse. He unknowingly helped the enemy, and became the cause of his own excommunication. He had aided in his fall from grace. And like an angel cast out of Heaven, he was doomed to spend the rest of his life in a frigid and vast colorless hell. He gingerly closed the velvet box and placed it back inside the hat box and put it up on the shelf.

As he pushed the box to the back of the wall, yet another slip of paper fluttered to the ground and landed face down. Frustrated, Will bent down to pick it up and turned it over. What he saw brought back old broken memories. It was a picture of him, Sydney and Francie the day they went and played mini golf. He laughed as he remembered how Sydney charmed an old man into taking their picture. Everyone falls to Sydney's charm. The were all smiling, his arm around Sydney, hers around him, and Francie right in the middle. How tormented he was to know that something like this would never happen again! Tempted, Will was about to pocket the picture and take it back to Wisconsin as the only memento of her that he wished to save, but after a fleeting glimpse of the background, Will observed the picture closer. There, in the distance behind them, a figure stood on the wooden and chain-linked bridge smiling at them, watching them. Will brought the picture to his nose and gasped bringing it back.

It was Vaughn.

Will's soul cried out and tears pricked his eyes. Vaughn had had Sydney's heart earlier than he had thought. Standing resolute, Will placed the picture on Sydney's bed and walked out. He had seen what he wanted to see and felt that he had overstayed his welcome. He needed to leave. He needed to go before he cracked any further. Will quickly passed through the house silently memorizing every detail so that he would never forget. Before he reached the door, he stopped in the living room and grabbed a picture frame sitting on the coffee table. Sydney was framed inside and he gently took her out placing the empty frame back on the table.

He went to the door and turned the lock. He turned around and took one last look at Sydney's life without him and said his silent goodbye. Out in the sunlight, Will jogged to the bed and breakfast he registered in, grabbed his duffel bag and settled the bill. He wasn't there ten minutes before he was off heading back to the airport.

When he stepped out of the cab and into the bustle of people at LAX, Will made his way to the check-in and pleaded his way into a seat on a same day flight to Wisconsin. After finding the gate and settling down in the rigid leather chair, Will thought of calling Sydney. He took the little slip of paper from his pocket and the cell phone he never used, never in Jonah's life at least, and dialed her number. It rang three times.

"Hello?" Her voice was smooth and cheerful over the phone.

"Hey, Syd. It's Will," he greeted.

"Will, hey. Are you okay?" She was worried.

"No, no, I'm fine. I just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving. I'm at the airport now."

Silence.

"Oh, uh, okay, but why so soon? You just got here. Are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. But I have to work tomorrow, you know how it is." Was that a sniffle he heard? Maybe not.

"Yeah, I know. You be safe okay? I'd die if anything happened to you." He smiled.

"Okay. Say bye to Vaughn for me?" He had to be civil. He could see her smiling.

"Okay," More silence. "Will, I love you." His heart lay shattered on the ground and tears welled up in his eyes. All the noise that was around him went suddenly mute.

"Not as much as I love you," he replied. Before she could answer, he hung up the phone. She didn't try calling back and even if she did he wouldn't have answered. Will sat watching the world pass him by as he waited for his plane and his mind wandered. Suddenly a woman with light brown hair interrupted his thoughts.

"Excuse me," she politely interrupted. "Is this the waiting area for the Wisconsin flight?" She smiled at him. He liked her smile. He straightened up in his seat.

"Yeah, yeah it is," he smiled. He gestured for her to take the seat next to him. She nonchalantly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and extended her hand.

"I'm Julia," she introduced. He took her hand and shook it. She was really pretty.

"Jonah," he replied. He sat back in his seat and looked at the dingy colored air outside. Jonah couldn't wait until he got back to the cool crisp Wisconsin air. He missed his friends, he missed his job and he missed that cute little painter girl who lived down the hall. Maybe, when he got back, he would finally ask her name.

_**Fin

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_Thank you to everyone who read this fic! I really enjoyed your comments and I hope my ending was all right. To clarify, Julia in the last section is **not** Julia Thorne. I was tempted to make her so and then do an AU Jonah/Julia, but I thought against it. **However,** that doesn't mean I won't do it in the future! Thanks again to everyone who R&Red. I appreciate it!_

_By the way, thumbs up? thumbs down?_

_Au revoir...for now,_

_**taintedvision**_


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